22. Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Two
Ariella
T he road ahead blurs with each heavy step my horse takes. We’ve been riding since dawn, after having rested for a while, and the sun now hangs low enough in the sky that shadows stretch across our path like eerie branches. My muscles ache from staying tense for so long; but I can’t relax. Not after what happened in Meridian.
The sound of rushing water still echoes in my head. My screams. The helplessness as I watched Caspian being swept away while I did everything in my power to get to him. I squeeze my eyes shut, willing away the memories—a fool’s battle. Those moments will haunt my dreams for the rest of my life, and likely even after the Angel takes me.
I glance at Caspian riding beside me. His eyes are distant, no doubt replaying the same scenes mine are. At least what he can remember. The way his shoulders slump tells me he’s taking it harder than I am. Of course he is—he’s the one that fucking died for several minutes. Then we left his people behind, deciding that our presence in Valoria is far more dire than helping the wounded in Meridian.
Gavriel rides ahead of us, his posture rigid. He’s been quiet since we left, speaking only when necessary. Something about his behavior nags at me. The way he avoided meeting my eyes when we discussed the king’s experiments. How he tensed when Bastian mentioned the trials.
He hasn’t even spewed nonsense about my staying back in the trade city.
“We should rest the horses soon,” Caspian asserts, breaking the heavy silence. “There’s a clearing just ahead that would work.”
I nod, though rest is the last thing I want. Every moment we delay is another moment the king continues ruining our chances to fix the Accord. But I do not think it’s the horses that need to rest. I peer to my left for the millionth time since leaving the city, studying each piece of the prince. His skin is sallow and dull. His eyes are struggling to stay open, and I’m certain he keeps jerking every few minutes to not fall off his horse.
He will be riding with me the short distance back to Valoria.
The aforementioned clearing appears—a small break in the dense forest surrounding the road. As we dismount, I notice the slightest shake in Gavriel’s hands as he ties his horse’s reins.
“I’ll get water,” he mutters, grabbing the skins and heading toward the sound of a stream nearby.
Something in his tone makes me pause. Not even a hint of his usual hostility. I’ve heard that kind of forced casualness before—in targets who think me too dense to understand their attempt to placate and flee before I kill them.
“I’ll help,” I announce, ignoring Caspian’s questioning look for now as I follow Gavriel deeper into the trees.
The guard’s shoulders tense when he hears my footsteps, but he doesn’t turn around. The stream gurgles, its sound masking our voices from the clearing. The prince doesn’t need to be privy to this conversation.
“You’re hiding something,” I state in a flat tone. Not a question.
His hands still over the water skin as he crouches. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Don’t fucking lie to me.” I keep my voice low but sharp. “You’ve been acting strange since Meridian. Why?”
He finally turns, and the guilt in his eyes confirms everything. “Ariella—”
“Answer me, or you’ll find that I suddenly forget Caspian’s wish for me not to shove my blade into your heart.” The words taste like acid with the amount of venom laced in every syllable.
He contemplates the threat as rage burns through my veins, but I force it down. I need information more than I need revenge right now.
“Tell me,” I demand. “You have one minute.”
Gavriel runs a hand over his face, cursing under his breath. “I don’t know how you do it—keep secrets from those you care about.” He laughs, the sound dull, before straightening to face me. “Thalion approached me after the first trial. Said he needed my help to free Caspian from his obsession of you, to make sure certain competitors faced specific challenges.” He tugs a chain from his breast pocket—it’s a moment before I realize that he’s holding some kind of locket.
My fingers itch to grab my blade. The fucking bastard helped the king, but I only manage two words. “The griffin.”
His face crumples as if I'd spoken my thoughts aloud. “Of course I fucking helped him…why wouldn’t I? I want you near Caspian even less than his father, so I was all too happy to follow him in to the design space and switch out your riddle and artifact before the other sentries distributed them.” I inspect the gilded pendant he tosses at me as he continues. “But then I learned what the king is doing…” I turn the locket over in my fingers, its surface tarnished but etched with intricate, swirling patterns I do not recognize. I attempt to pry it open, but it doesn’t budge.
I pin the guard with a dark look, something that feigns anger, though I’m surprisingly anything but. It was quite the brilliant feat on his part. “And now you feel disgusting for aiding someone who has been using children’s bodies for his own gain?”
“I was protecting Caspian!” Gavriel snaps, his voice rising before he catches himself. “The king said you were a threat. That you’d destroy everything if left unchecked. And he’s still right, though for the wrong reasons. You’re the fucking Silver Wraith!” He throws an arm toward me as if I’m clueless about my identity. “ I saw the way you two looked at each other, and I couldn’t allow it to continue. ”
A twig snaps behind us. We both turn to find Caspian standing there, his face a mask of barely contained fury.
“What did you just say?” His voice drops to a lethal whisper. “How could you ever do such a thing?”
The words hang heavy in the air, suffocating in their weight. The color drains from Gavriel's face, his mouth opening and closing as he grapples for an explanation. But Caspian doesn’t give him the chance.
“You helped him?” Caspian’s voice is low and sharp, each word like a blade carving through the tension. “You helped him —and said nothing? Even after everything he's done since?”
“I—” Gavriel starts, his voice falters, but Caspian cuts him off, stepping forward with fists clenched at his sides. He looks murderous.
What an inconvenient time to become aroused.
“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” Caspian’s voice cracks, his composure unraveling as the skin along his face flushes. “How many lives have been destroyed because of him? Because of you? I trusted you, Gavriel. I knew you didn't like her, but this…disgraceful.”
“I was trying to protect you,” Gavriel insists, his tone growing more desperate with every syllable. He steps closer, but there's a flicker of hesitation in his movements, the way he flinches when Caspian’s glare sharpens. “Everything I did—I did it for you.”
“Bullshit,” Caspian spits, his voice rising. His anger feels alive, thrumming through the space between them. I bite down on my cheek to ground my thoughts; now is not the time. “You didn’t do it for me. You did it because you couldn’t stand the idea of my attention on someone else. You wanted to keep me in line, just like my father.”
Gavriel’s face twists with a palpable distress, but there’s a defensive edge to his posture now. “You don’t understand. I saw what was happening to you. The way you looked at her—” He gestures toward me, his hand shaking. “You were losing yourself to her, Cas. I thought I was saving you.”
“By betraying me?” My prince’s laugh is sharp and humorless. He shakes his head, disbelief etched into every line of his face. “You don’t save someone by stabbing them in the back.”
“I didn’t know what he was doing!” the guard yells, his frustration boiling over. “I didn’t know about the experiments, or the people he would kill. Not until it was too late.”
“And when you found out?” I interject, my voice cold and cutting. I step closer, just enough to remind Gavriel that I’m still here—and keep my prince from doing something he'll repent—my blade itching for an excuse to silence him. “What then, Gavriel? Did you run to Caspian? Did you try to stop Thalion? Or did you stay silent because it was easier than admitting you were wrong?”
He doesn’t answer, his jaw tightening as he looks between me and Caspian. His silence is all the confirmation we need.
“Get out of my sight,” Caspian commands, and the mix of fury and heartbreak in his tone catches my breath. He steps back once, as if the distance might somehow lessen the pain. “Go back to the castle. Request a new post. I don’t care. But I never want to see you again.”
“Caspian, please—” Gavriel’s voice cracks, and for a moment, he looks more like a lost boy than the hardened soldier I’ve come to know.
“ Now! ” Caspian’s shout echoes through the trees, and Gavriel flinches as if struck. His shoulders slump, his gaze falling to the ground as he nods. Without another word, he turns and trudges away, his steps heavy with the weight of his choices. The sound of hooves fades a few minutes later.
I examine Caspian. His breathing is ragged, his eyes fixed on where the guard disappeared. When he finally looks at me, the vulnerability there makes my chest ache. I don’t do this—this comforting shit—but my arms just want to hold him against me forever.
“I trusted him, Ariella. More than anyone…and he—” He clears his throat before sucking a long breath through his nose. “It’s hard to imagine trusting anyone now,” he whispers more to himself than to me. “But you always feel like the exception.”
Something warm and uncomfortable looms deep in my chest. I want to insist he not trust me either—that I’m just as capable of betrayal as anyone. But the words stick in my throat.
Instead, I step closer and touch his arm in what I think would be a consolatory gesture, but it only serves to make me cringe. “We need to move. Your father will not wait.”
He nods, some of the steel returning to his spine. “You’re right. But—” His hand grabs mine, lifting it to his lips so that he may press the gentlest of kisses to my skin. “Thank you. For stopping me from doing something I’d regret.”
I pull him toward the horses, feeling itchy from the gratitude. When was the last time someone thanked me? “Let’s go. We can make it back to the castle by nightfall if we ride hard.”
After insisting the prince sit behind me the remaining journey, we mount up and push the horses as fast as we dare. The sun sinks lower, and the looming darkness feels like a warning.
The forest blurs past as our horses thunder down the path. With Caspian’s arms secured around my waist, I can feel the uneven rhythm of his breathing against my shoulder. It's not long before he's asleep. The events in Meridian took more from him than he’ll admit.
“Let's stop,” I mutter when he rouses, slowing our pace. I do not want to stop, but I will for him.
“No,” he protests. “We need to get back.”
I roll my eyes, though he can’t see it. “You’re no good to anyone if you pass out and fall off this horse.” His answering groan vibrates through my chest. “Besides, the horses need water. We didn’t give them any before.”
That gets his attention. Of course the damn prince would care more about the horses’ wellbeing than his own. I guide us toward a small stream cutting through the dense trees, helping Caspian dismount when he sways.
“Sit,” I command, pointing to a fallen log. He looks ready to argue but thinks better of it when I narrow my eyes. While he rests, I lead the horses to drink and check their legs for any signs of strain.
The fading sunlight filters through the canopy, something about the approaching darkness feeling like a warning. A tingling chill drifts down my spine as I notice how unnaturally quiet it is. No birds. No insects. Even the stream seems muted somehow.
I chew on my lip, remembering the way the ocean revolted against nature itself. The wave that was so close to claiming Caspian’s life—
No. I refuse to stress over things of the past that did not happen.
“We should keep moving.” I help him stand, chuckling when he waves me away. “Can you even ride, prince?”
“I’m fine.” His stubborn tone would be more convincing if he wasn’t leaning so heavily against me. I raise an eyebrow and he sighs. “Okay, maybe not entirely fine. But we cannot afford to delay.”
“Then you’re riding with me again.” I mount first, pulling him up behind me before he can protest. His arms circle my waist once more, and I pretend not to notice how he presses his face into my hair. How his hands splay against the lines of my abdomen. How fucking warm his body feels wrapped around me like this.
As we continue toward Valoria, my mind wanders to Gavriel’s confession. The locket he gave me feels heavy in my pocket. There’s a familiarity to it that I can’t place—if only I could get the old thing open.
“I can hear you thinking,” Caspian mumbles against my neck, and I shift in my seat .
“Someone has to do the thinking around here.” My attempt at levity falls flat. After a moment, I add, “Are you okay? About Gavriel?”
His arms tighten around me. “No. But I understand why he did it, even if his methods were wrong.”
“That’s very…mature of you.” Not a lie. If he weren’t Caspian’s closest friend, his body would rotting be back in the clearing.
He chuckles. “Don’t sound so surprised, angel. I’m capable of growth.”
I hum in a teasing manner as we fall into silence again, the road winding through familiar territory. The closer we get to Valoria, the more tension builds in my shoulders. Our time is running out.
“We need a plan,” I say, my mind whirring. “We can’t just storm the castle.”
“Why not? It’s worked so well for us before.” Despite his sardonic tone, I know he’s right. Our previous confrontations with the king have only made things worse. Perhaps we wouldn’t be on such a deadline—with Thalion’s threat hanging over his son—if we were more careful. Well, if I was more careful.
“We need proof of what he’s doing, and we need to find a way to stop him that won’t throw the realm further out of balance. And we both know the tunnels are that proof.”
Caspian shifts behind me, his thumb tracing absent patterns on my hip. “Then we venture into the tunnels,” he says after a while, squeezing me harder .
My mind flits through ways I could subdue him—make him stay behind. The tunnels are creepy, but protecting him while focusing on my task will be rather difficult. It won’t work, but I try anyway. “Maybe you should stay back as a distraction. If your father catches us—”
“He won’t.” The steel in his voice reminds me that he’s not just the charming prince anymore. He’s chosen his side in this fight, chosen me, and the weight of that choice is inarguably important to him.
I can practically feel him wrestling with everything, remaining quiet behind me. I find myself longing for his voice—the same one I’d almost lost just hours ago.
“Tell me what you’re thinking,” I demand with an awkward attempt at softness, frowning at myself because while I am perfect in most aspects of my life, conversation is not one of them.
He takes a shuddering breath, cuddling into me as if he cannot get close enough. I’m afraid to admit I feel the same. “I’m thinking about how everything I believed about my father was a lie. About how many people have suffered because of my choices. About how many more will suffer if we don’t stop him.”
I look over my shoulder, needing him to understand the truth of my next statement. “ None of this is your fault, Caspian.”
“Isn’t it? I’m the crown prince. I should have known what was happening in my own fucking castle.”
I guide our horses around a fallen branch before responding, having to lightly tug on the other one. “The king fooled everyone. He’s had years to perfect his deception. Even I didn’t know anything, and I’ve been planning his death for decades.”
“But you knew he was capable of evil. You saw it when he killed your father.”
My hands tighten on the reins. “That was different. That was personal, and I did not care about his claim of treason.”
“Then are my feelings not personal as well?”
I don’t have an answer for that. I’d believe the same if I were in his position. Especially now, knowing that the Accord is involved. The balance of the realms isn’t just some abstract concept that can be brushed off. It’s the foundation of our realms, being torn apart piece by piece—so much so that it’s now affecting the essence inside of people. That’s a lot of burden to carry. Something squeezes in the center of my chest.
The sun is low on the horizon when we finally catch sight of Valoria. Even from this distance, I can see the changes…the city itself seems subdued, with fewer people in the streets than usual. The atmosphere is ominous. Foreboding.
“It feels worse here,” Caspian whispers as we ride through the streets. “How can it be so much worse after just two days?”
I guide the horses toward the stables just inside the castle grounds, avoiding the main gates where we might be noticed by more people than I’d like.
“We will stop him,” I answer, helping him dismount. His legs are more steady this time, though still tired and would be anything but helpful if we went exploring right now. “But first, you will eat and sleep. You’re no good to anyone like this. ”
He starts to protest, but I pinch his lips, releasing when he smirks. “Fine. But only for a few hours. Then we will inspect the tunnels.”
I nod with acquiescence, though I have no intention of letting him join me when I enter the tunnels tonight. I need to go alone.
We walk through the back halls of the castle, keeping from the largest crowds. These areas remind me of the treasury that Thalion so kindly invited me to, though the memory is fleeting as my focus shifts to the packs slung over my shoulder. I should take them to my room before heading out; there’s still the matter of the strange device tucked inside one of them.
“Your room or mine?” Caspian asks when we reach our wing. I’m unsure of why the thought of this being our wing is troubling.
“Yours is closer.” Fully functional again thanks to the staff, and less likely to be monitored, I don’t add. The king is a cunning bastard.
Once inside his room, Caspian all but collapses onto his bed. I watch as he pulls off his boots and shirt with less strain than I expected, though there’s still fatigue clinging to him. At least he showered before we left Meridian; he looks more rested than he did earlier, moving with ease as he replaces his clothing.
“You should eat something,” I repeat my earlier demand, tossing one of the packs onto a chair in the corner.
“I will,” he mutters, lying back for a moment before forcing himself to sit up again. He gestures toward the door. “I’ll grab some food while you shower. ”
I nod as he exits, the faint sound of his footfalls echoing down the hall. My gaze lingers on the bag in the corner. I should unpack the damn thing, but exhaustion demands I leave it for later. The golden handles of Caspian’s desk remind me of the griffin egg I have tucked away. And its mother. The sight of her is still vivid in my mind—how unapologetic and powerful she was. Perhaps that’s why I like her so much, regardless that she attempted to murder me. Though I have a feeling she wouldn’t dare do such a thing again, which raises the question: how the fuck did she know we were in trouble and where to find us? I’m riddled with the same confusion I was when she allowed me to live. Strange creature.
I push the thoughts aside and walk through my room to the shower, letting the scalding water soothe the tension in my shoulders. By the time I step out, wrapped in a towel, my mind is quieter, though the griffin still lingers somewhere in the background. I pause at the sight of Caspian sitting at my desk, a tray of food before him.
“I don’t recall inviting you in.” My tone is dry as I narrow my eyes at him.
He glances up with that infuriating smirk. “We both know you would’ve warded the door if you didn’t want me here.”
Damn him for being right. I move to my wardrobe, acutely aware of his eyes on me as I grab a large shirt. “How are you feeling?” I inquire, breaking away from the thoughts in my head. I unceremoniously drop my towel and tug the shirt over my head .
“Better.” His voice is closer now. “Though I can’t stop thinking about Gavriel.” I pivot to find him just a few feet away, his face drawn. “When I saw you like that after the griffin attacked you, bleeding out…” He fidgets with his hands, casting his gaze downward. “And it was because of him? The person I’d trusted the most, who I thought was my friend? I knew he wasn’t particularly fond of you, but I didn’t think he would try to have you killed, Ariella. And by a fucking griffin, no less.”
I take a step closer, unable to help myself. “You cannot blame yourself for his choices.” When did I become such a wise, gentle being? My instincts tell me to revolt—to shove the prince from my room and demand that he stay away.
But I won’t. I was not lying as I was screaming to his dead body that I would stop fighting this if he just came back to me.
The Angel could have asked me for anything in exchange for his life, and I would have granted it. There would not be a single person or city safe from me if that was the Angel’s price.
So when the prince closes the distance between us, brushing the tips of his fingers up the exposed skin of my arm, I don’t fight it. I sink into the increasing rhythm of my heart and allow the pressure in my abdomen to subsist.
His next words are nothing more than a whisper. “How are you not raging about what he did?”
“Because what Gavriel did is nothing compared to everything else done to me in my life.” I shrug.
Pain flashes across his face. “I’m sorry. I wish—”
“Don’t.” I hold a finger to his mouth, suddenly needing to drown in those soft lips. “What’s done is done.”
He captures my hand, pressing a kiss to my palm that sends warmth coursing through the attached limb and up my neck. His other hand grips my waist, pulling me forward until I’m flush against the hard lines of his chest.
My breath catches as his lips find my neck, causing an intense fluttering to shoot straight down to my core. “Caspian…”
“Let me give us what we both need, angel,” he murmurs against my skin, and I lose all sense. My hand latches around his throat before dragging his mouth to mine—something I cannot seem to get enough of.